Thank you
by Backgroundnoise
Summary: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say “Thank you”.New chapter up
1. Two months

Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.  
Spoilers until "Sona", after that, just my sick imagination.  
Pairing: Michael/Sara.  
Rating: PG-16 Summary: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say "Thank you.  
Dedicated to Maria, thank you for making it possible.  
Title: Thank you Chapter title: Two months.  
By Lylou 

Insults, comments or reviews are always welcome.

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_-"…Now it is time to say thank you…"_

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Sara opened her eyes slowly.

The intensely humid air in the room hit her, making her quickly remember where she was.  
Sara remembered that everything hadn't just been a vivid nightmare. It had been two months since that hot evening, when they almost had it all, when they had been so close to freedom… Two months since Sara had seen how Michael turned himself in to save her.

She woke up from the elegant and big hotel bed and walked onto the terrace.

Sara was naked, so she took the white dressing gown from the chair and put it on.  
And she couldn't help but think again, in that still dark room that it was strange that after all that had happened, after everything that they had been through in those past two months, it was strange to think that she was going to see Michael again.

Today.

After that horrible evening and still with the metallic taste of guilt in her mouth, Sara had made a decision.

The hardest decision that she had ever had to make in her whole life.

For him.

To save him, like he had sacrificed himself to save her.

Because now it was her time to say thank you.

Sara knew then that the price was high and painful, and that surely it would destroy her slowly… But the odds had been against them since the beginning.

Yet, Sara had no doubt, not for a second. There wasn't another option, and besides… It had already been done, so now there was no going back. Not for her.

The only thing that they could do now, that Sara could do now, was to pay the price and try to never let Michael know of it.

One of them living with the knowledge was enough, and that person was going to be her.

Sara opened the terrace doors and walked onto it.

Panamá city was still there, hot and bathed in the morning sun.

She had almost gotten used to this place, to the aching sun upon them, to walk through the narrow and white back streets, and it was almost funny to think of, especially after all that she had lost in that damned city. After having discovered painfully what she was really made of; what she was able to do for him.

61 days, 1.464 hours, 87.840 minutes and 5.270.400 seconds.  
Two months.

It had been enough time for Sara to understand that they would never stop bleeding.  
That the love, the guilt and his lack of presence were like warm poison coursing through her veins; slowly, poisoning her with pain and guilt every second, until she even began doubting that there would be anything about her that Michael would recognize when he got out.

And even if Sara had been convinced that all the pain and all the bloodshed would have been in vain, she would have done the same damn thing.

Everything.  
Since that night she left the door open for them, their lives and their fates were changed forever.

Sara entered the room again, but left the terrace doors open and the sun slide all over the room, warming it. Then she walked to the master bathroom and turned on the faucet.

Lincoln was in the adjacent room, and surely he was already awake. Surely he had been awake since midnight, but he didn't dare knock on her door.

He had no idea what she had done to save his younger brother.

They had both been in that classy hotel almost since the beginning;  
Sara had gone alone to Chicago for two days to solve everything concerning her bequeathal.

She had signed the papers at the big wooden table in her father's office - in his house, the house that was now hers - in the presence of two lawyers she had never met before.

Sara smiled sadly as she removed the bathrobe to jump in the shower. She kept thinking that she wasn't accustomed to this. To think about her father in past tense, to have no financial worries, to be the very last Tancredi on earth…  
She felt the water upon her skin and running trough her hair, sliding slowly over her body… There were too many memories, too much pain and too much love to just let it go.

Sara cried silently under the stream of water, and her tears were mixed with the warm water.

She continued this until she was able to calm herself down, which eventually made the tears stop from falling.  
It had been a high price, and it was going to be just that for the rest of her life, but it was already done.

Sara thought again about that night, about the suspicions that would appear in Lincoln eyes sometimes… About everything that had happened in these past two months.  
About how THAT would always be a part of her life, of their lives.  
Forever.

Sara turned of the water and got out of the shower.

It was scary, painful and a thousand other things, but all that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now, because today she would see Michael again.

In four hours, Michael would be released for good from that hell hole, and all that had been required of her to make that happen, had been to sell her soul and blood.

Sara kept thinking about Michael and the fact that she didn't know what she would say to him, when they finally saw each other again, or what Michael would say to her…  
What if Michael had spent all this time blaming her?  
Would there still be something left of the old Michael after having been in that place?

She would have to lie to him hereon out.  
Lie to him in order to save him… It was a small price to pay.

Slowly Sara entered the room again and opened the big closet.

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Michael heard the metallic noise of the door closing behind him.  
He closed his eyes for a while and took a much needed breath of fresh air.

He was nervous for the first time in a long time, he had gotten used to live without faith or hope in that place. It had been easy, but now he was scared of what he would find outside the prison walls.  
It was almost funny.  
And surely Michael would have smirked if he wasn't so worried. It was a strange and new feeling.

The faith, slowly getting overpowering with every step he took towards the heavy doors, Michael could almost imagine how it would be to feel the light of the evening sun in his eyes, hurting them, since they were used to the darkness.

Michael had spent two months in that place; having been almost certain he would die there. And now two heavy iron doors were the only thing separating him from freedom.

Separating him from her.

Michael hadn't seen Sara in all this time.

61 days, 1.464 hours, 87.840 minutes and 5.270.400 seconds.  
Two months.

He hadn't even spoken to her, but suddenly, a week ago, a guard took him to the visitations room that he didn't even know existed, and there he was; Lincoln.

He told Michael that he was going to be released. That Sara had fixed everything.  
_"-She did it Michael… I don't know how, but she did it"_

And just like that he was a free man.  
Forever.

Michael still remembered the happiness and the hope in his brother's eyes.  
And then Michael just thought about one person: Sara.

He thought about all the new possibilities they had to share their lives together, about all the words that he could whisper to her now, about all the kisses, this time without the feeling of guilt or of rushing everything. All this he would be able to give her soon… He couldn't give up this feeling of hope.

And hope was something Michael had been convinced he had lost forever.

He had spent two months without her and it had been painful enough to fill two lifetimes.

When he broke out of Fox River, he let four days pass before taking the phone and calling her from that half-dark room, crying miserably against a wall.

Then Michael had wanted to kiss her, to make her understand that during all that time they had spent together in the infirmary his love for her had evolved, that he never thought, even for just a second that he would be able to just walk away, leaving her behind… Michael needed her to understand that "_Baja_" and "_Wait for me_" had been nothing but the painful truth.

While he was walking towards the last door, Michael continued his train of thought. He thought of all the times that he wished he had kissed Sara.

Like the morning in her infirmary, when she had found out about the key and she was under the impression that that was all he ever wanted from her. Michael had wanted to kiss her that hot day, when she was panicking, crawling around that dirty ceiling with him. Or in that quiet and dusty motel, in El Gila…He wished he had kissed her many times…

But Michael hadn't done it.

And during the past two months, he had been convinced that he would never have the chance to kiss her.

They had lost too much time.  
Too much time and too much blood; too many opportunities to kiss her, to say "_I'm sorry_" or "_I love you."  
_And during the time Michael had spent there, he had thought it was over, that he had lost all those opportunities forever.

For Sara.

He had lost her forever in order to save her.

But now, after all they had been through together and alone, the only thing separating Michael from Sara was two iron doors.  
And he was certain she would be there, beautiful as always and bathed in the midday sun.

A uniformed guard walked over to him and spoke before opening the doors:

-"Be good amigo.

Michael half-smiled slowly and muttered:

-"…I will"

Finally the guard was opening the doors. The sun shone brightly through the space between the two doors, and Michael understood then that the sunlight would hurt him much more than he had thought.

To be continued…  
Every comment is loved.


	2. The path

Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.

Spoilers until "Sona", after that, just my sick imagination.

Pairing: Michael/Sara.

Rating: PG-16

Summary: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say _"Thank you_".

Dedicated to Maria, thank you for making it possible.

Title: Thank you

Chapter title: The path.

By Lylou

Insults, comments or reviews are always welcome.

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_-"…__ If I surrender now, I lose everyone I love."_

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Sara felt the hot and intoxicating evening breeze playing softly with her hair, the same way it was slowly waving through the white and thin fabric of her long dress.

But she didn't move. She just continued standing there, looking at the protruding building at the end of the road. When she finally moved, Sara touched the chassis of the car absent-mindedly with her hand.

It was hot.

Sometimes Sara couldn't help but think that everything there was hot.

Starting with the air trapped in her lungs, her lonely and soft blankets at night, and the suffocating air removed lazily by the ventilator over her big bed… Or her blood and her guilt, flowing trough her veins… Especially the latter one.

The guilt leaving a hot and familiar aftertaste in her palate.

Sometimes Sara was convinced that having to feel something would be two times harder with the guilty heat surrounding her.

"_Surely he __has been exposed to a much more excruciating heat locked away in that place, than you in your expensive hotel room"_

There it was. That guilt ridden and bitter tone in the back of her mind… Sometimes Sara heard it above her own voice.

Maybe she would never stop doing that now; listening to that voice. Maybe the only thing that Michael would see in her eyes from now on would be her trembling pupils and a dark shadow of guilt.

Maybe she had lost him forever.

Sara closed her eyes a bit and looked at the dry ground.

It was just too painful to think that maybe Michael Scofield wouldn't look at her as he used to. As if she was the only person in the world for him. Just the mere thought made her eyes well up with hot tears.

To think that maybe he would never say her name in that certain way again. With his voice low and modest, as if "_Sara_" was the only word left in Michael Scofield's vocabulary. The only word he could still remember.

Because Sara had never felt less lonely and more scared, than when she heard Michael say her name like that.

And it wasn't just the guilt. The overpowering guilt was an important component in their defeat of course, but it was the rage, the anger and the sadness that was making her bleed to death.

That, and the miserable unfairness that fate had dealt them.

So much that Sara was now sure that they would never really have even a small shot at making it.

At this very moment she was standing under the evening sun, in that hot and deserted esplanade, waiting in pain for those two heavy doors to open. Waiting to see what was left of Michael after having been two months in that place for her, Sara finally understood that it was impossible to win, when the devil was dealing the cards.

"_Too __high a price and not enough options."_

If she had lost him, if this was going to be the end of them, which it seemed to be, at least it had been the second time that she had saved him.

Maybe she could hold on tight to that knowledge, when the rage and the despair found her, alone in her expensive bed.

Or when she would have to go through with the final and painful part of her deal.

-"Are you okay?"

Lincoln spoke from the other side of the car. He was leaning onto the chassis and it seemed as if the heat was having no effect on him.

He hadn't spoken to her in all the time they had spent waiting for Michael in front of the prison. It wasn't strange, because he wasn't really very talkative… And it was funny, because that was one of the few characteristics that were shared by Michael and Lincoln.

There weren't uncomfortable silences with those men… At least not before.

At the beginning, when Lincoln had lost all hope of getting his younger brother back and when Sara was seeing the desperation in his eyes regularly, Sara liked being next to Lincoln.

It was the only part of Michael that she could still touch, like a clear yet silent prove of his presence.

And Sara remembered why she was doing that.

Sara remembered that one night almost three weeks ago, she had been awake in her big and lonely bed, afraid.

She was scared, because she suddenly thought she didn't remember Michael's scent anymore.

When her mother died, the first thing she forgot about her, had been her particular scent.

And the second thing had been her voice.

Sara still remembered that very well, and that night she thought that though she may have forgotten Michael's scent, she wasn't ready to forget his voice as well.

So she got out of bed and slowly, and with burning tears sliding down her cheeks, walked to the hotel corridor. She went to Lincoln's room, only to discover that he was awake as well:

_-"I don't want to forget his voice either."_

That had been the only words Sara voiced that night. She just lay down in the bed, without touching Lincoln, merely lying next to him. Still feeling the warm tears on her face and now on the pillow as well, Sara looked at Lincoln through the half-light, and when Lincoln looked at her in silence, Sara felt as if the one and only Michael Scofield were looking back at her.

This didn't last longer than a couple of seconds, but after that Sara was finally able to close her eyes and let some much needed sleep and rest overpower her. The burning tears were still drying on her cheeks, when Sara fell asleep that night in Lincoln's bed. She slept through the whole night for the first time in months.

Lincoln's voice shook her from her thoughts:

-"… Are you okay?"

This time Sara turned to look at him under the evening sun, but Lincoln hadn't even looked at her.

Sara smiled weakly and looked again to the still closed doors:

-"…Yes. It's just a bit strange to think that everything is going to finally come to an end."

Lincoln smiled sadly and looked at the ground before speaking with a very cautious tone in his voice. It was as if he wasn't really sure if he should be saying this:

-"You know… He's not going to blame you Sara…

For any of it."

Sometimes Sara had the feeling that that man was always looking askance at her. Half worried and half suspicious.

And with that last "_For any of it_", Sara wondered how much of her secret Lincoln knew.

-"How can you be sure of that?"

Her voice broke a bit under the painful sun, and this time Sara looked straight at Lincoln when she spoke, only to discover that he was looking at her too:

-"Because I know my brother…

He is incapable of blaming someone other than himself…

Especially you."

Sara spoke again, trying to hide the pain in her words by speaking firmly, as if it was just an innocent question:

-"And you Lincoln… Do you blame me for anything?"

He looked a bit surprised and confused, but before Lincoln had the chance to answer her, the heavy doors of the prison entrance opened slowly, almost painstakingly slow.

She separated herself from the car by taking a few steps toward the now open doors. She opened her trembling mouth, as if to say something, but she was unable to.

Sara saw Michael, walking under the sun along the dusty path, slowly, to where she and Lincoln were waiting for him.

Sara could feel her eyes fill with warm tears long before Michael was even close enough to notice it.

And all of a sudden, Sara painfully realized just how much she had missed him in all this time.

Suddenly everything that had happened in the past two months, and even before that, was slowly getting blurred, as if she had just awakened from a nightmare.

During the seconds it took for Michael to reach them, everything else in the world lost its meaning.

Everything.

Even what she would still have to do.

When he was just a few feet from her, Sara saw his eyes, and she knew that Michael was still there and that he didn't blame her for anything.

Sara sensed a shiver running down her spine, when she felt his warm and intense gaze settle upon her, in that way what only Michael Scofield could.

Michael had that shy smile on his face that always had made her feel as if everything between them was so wrong and addictive… God, she had missed that smile.

Sara felt her bottom lip quivering. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him as tight as she could.

She felt Michael's warm breathe against her ear, and his hands holding her tightly while pulling her closer to his body.

She felt the evening sun falling upon them yet the hot breeze was still waving through her dress and her hair and Sara began to cry softly of pure and stupid happiness.

She cried against his t-shirt, forgetting about everything else.

Michael felt Sara trembling quietly against his chest and tightened his grip around her, until he could feel her hot tears moistening his t-shirt and Sara buried her face in this very T-shirt until she remembered again, how Michael Scofield smells.

Sara heard his low voice, whispering her name into her ear and she held onto him a bit tighter and with more urgency:

-"…It's okay Sara.

We have won."

Sara separated a bit from him, just enough to look at him through her burning tears. With her hands against the fabric of his t-shirt, Sara saw all the pain stored in his eyes.

"…_We have__n't won Michael … We have lost everything._

_We could never have won."_

Of course, Sara didn't say it out loud, she wasn't ready to face reality by saying it out loud; but there it was, waiting silently for them, the most painful lie of all.

Sara looked at him in silence and moved a bit to give Lincoln the chance to embrace his brother.

The two men hugged for a few seconds and Sara could see Michael closing his eyes, touched and overwhelmed.

When they finally separated Michael looked to both of them with wet eyes, but he still had that shy and sexy smile on his lips, as he spoke in an incredulous and soft voice:

-"We did it…"

Sara's eyes filled with warm tears yet again, but this time she held them back and hugged Michael again, burying her face in his t-shirt, feeling his fingers going through her hair slowly.

When Sara spoke against him, her words were slightly muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt, and her voice was broken, knowing that that was going to be the most painful and sore lie of all:

-"…Yes Michael…

We did it."

Sara felt Michael's hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly, and he separated from Sara a bit to look at her. And There it was:

The way that Michael Scofield had always looked at her.

Sara knew then that Michael hadn't even noticed that she had lied to him.

-"…Come on…

Let's go back to the hotel."

Lincoln's voice sounded distant because of the strong breeze attacking her back. She was still locked in Michael's embrace. They looked to Lincoln and walked slowly to the car doors, but before getting in Michael looked at the big behind them.

The sunset lit up the sky, bathing it in an orange hue, the shadows were stretched out, making everything seem vaster: their car, the small rocks on the ground, even themselves… and that building… And with that same sun trapped in his wet eyes, Michael looked at the building for the last time.

He smiled, feeling really free for the very first time, since that unforgettable day that he entered armed in that bank.

To be continued….

Insults, comments or reviews are always welcome.


	3. The first night

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.

Spoilers until "Sona", after that just my sick imagination.

**Pairing:** Michael/Sara.

**Rating:** PG-16

**Summary**: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say _"Thank you_".

Note: This chapter is longer than others, so please, dont hate me.

Dedicated to my lovely Maria, thank you for making it possible.

**Title:** Thank you

**Chapter title: **The first night.

By Lylou

Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.

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_-"...__ Dont make me lie to you …Please."_

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Sara heard the elevator doors closing behind them in that elegant and well illuminated corridor and walked slowly to her room door.

Michael followed her closely, so much in fact that she had touched Michael's hand almost accidentally a moment earlier and he had held it, with all that charming shyness that he always seemed to radiate whenever he would touch her.

He had gone to the hell in order to save her, but he didn't dare hold her hand.

Sara didn't turn around to look at him; she just smiled softly and squeezed his hand a bit, in a clear and endearing signal of approval and maybe something more… Maybe release of the feeling that Michael was still right there, walking slowly behind her.

That he hadn't just vanished painfully and suddenly, like everyone else in her life.

After those months of Michael not being there, his skin or the heat radiating off of his body just a few centimeters behind her in that corridor, made Sara secretly wish that the door of room 834 was a bit more far to their reach.

She knew it was childish, but nonetheless.

Sara let out a breath of hot guilt laden air and continued her walk trough the well illuminated corridor. But then suddenly out of nowhere, Sara felt the warm tears well up in her eyes, and she closed them stubbornly for a few moments, hoping desperately that Michael hadn't noticed.

Because she knew that she wouldn't be able to explain it to him right now.

But that simple gesture, Michael Scofield holding her hand half in need and half ashamed, had been more than enough to convince her that what she had done was right.

It had been more than enough to convince her that the price hadn't been too high, if it enabled her to feel his long fingers tangled in hers or his hand squeezing hers softly.

And Sara knew then that she would have done it all over again.

Everything.

From the day she left that door open for him, to the night that she left that hotel room at midnight, scared but determined, almost six weeks ago.

Everything.

She stopped in front of the door to swipe the plastic card in the card reader next to the room door.

Michael didn't loosen his hold on her hand; on the contrary, he came up close to her. So close in fact that Sara could feel the heat radiating off of his body and she felt Michael's warm breath on her earlobe and in the back of her neck.

Sara searched urgently for the plastic key card in her purse with her free hand, and then she felt Michael's hand squeezing hers more desperately than just a few moments ago.

And Sara thought then that maybe she wasn't the only one scared of waking up in that corridor.

She felt his intoxicating warmth behind her, and his scent managed some how to seep through the white fabric of her long dress… and Sara felt his wet and soft lips plainly on her earlobe, when he whispered into her ear.

Sara closed her eyes a bit when she heard that low and unmistakable voice that she had missed so much in the last two months:

-"…I was so worried about you Sara…"

Michael spoke softly but with a hint of sorrow, as if those words were something that had kept him wide-awake during every one of those sixty-two nights he had spent apart from her.

Sara couldn't help but close her eyes a bit, when she felt his warm breath and when she heard his soft-spoken words in her ear, inducing the effect on her that only Michael Scofield could.

There was a familiarity in the way he spoke to her. He always spoke to her that way.

God… She had missed him so much.

And now, listening to how her name just rolled of his tongue with such ease, his fingers playing slowly with hers, his body just a few centimeters from hers, and his breath on the back her neck, his lips moving softly across her skin… and his words, timid yet warm, full of love and fixation…

Fixation on her.

_That_ had been too much for her to handle.

It was strange, because they didn't even known each other just six months ago, but now Sara knew that they'd both walk through fire in order to save the other.

She had been worried and terrified for him during all the time he had spent in that hole, and Michael had been worried for her during all the time that she had been kept from him….Sara realized sadly then that she had almost forgotten how it was to have someone worry about you, how it was to know that someone couldn't sleep because they were concerned about your safety.

Sara wanted to cry, she even felt the hot tears in her eyes, and she wanted to be comforted by him. She wanted to close her eyes and let him save her…. But she couldn't, because now it was her time to do that for him.

But to feel his anxious hand, his breath on her neck and his warm and needy words, suddenly made the price small and almost insignificant to her.

Almost.

The heavy door made a mechanic noise and finally opened.

Sara pushed it open slowly and both walked into the room, the lights turned on automatically, and the ventilators in the ceiling started to turn silently, eradicating the hot and moist air trapped in the room.

Sara felt how Michael loosened his hold on her hand slowly and closed the door behind them.

Tiredly she dumped her purse on the big and expensive sofa, feeling Michael's hot and intense gaze fixed on her, looking at her every move with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth that he always had when he was looking at her.

He was simply Michael Scofield.

Sara was tired, it had been a really long and hot day and she was too tired to think, too tired of the heat, of the damn wait… of everything… and he was there again, just a few meters away from her, looking at her in silence. She knew it because Sara could feel his greenish look sliding over her…

"_Why the hell di__d you get him out of prison, if you cant even bring yourself to look at him."_

She turned around in order to look at him standing in that expensive and comfortable room, and when she spoke, her voice and her words sounded emotional and guilty, but she had to know it:

-"You were in that place… And you were worried about me?"

Sara almost cried when the words left her lips and she couldn't help but think of how much they had surely lost forever.

And obviously Michael heard something in her voice he couldn't identify, because he covered the small amount of steps between them in silence, until he was just a few centimeters from her.

Sara heard the ventilator's soft noise above them, and the street noises of Panama City slipping through the open terrace doors…. Slowly Michael brushed his hand across her face to the back of her neck, gently. He always touched her as if she would break at any moment, and Sara felt his gaze fixed on her and his long fingers playing softly with the short hair behind her ear, feeling a small and pleasant shiver in the nape of her neck at his touch.

Michael closed his eyes for a moment before whispering, and Sara recognized that mixture of shyness and need in his words:

-"Yes… I was worried because I didn't know if you were safe or…"

Michael put one of his hands on the small of her back and pulled her closer, until he could feel her accelerated breath against his skin. Sara closed her eyes a bit, the last couple of hours had been too intense for her and feeling Michael's hand gently sifting through her hair wasn't helping…

Michael gave her a warm half smile for the first time since they entered that room and softly touched his forehead against hers.

He closed his eyes and Sara felt his hand playing yet again with her hair, as he whispered to her in that familiar and soft voice of his:

-"… Or if you had gotten tired of waiting for me.

Maybe you had forgotten about me."

Sara felt like all the air had suddenly and without warning been sucked from her body.

She separated a bit from Michael to look at him, trying to figure out why he had said that. How much did he know?

Her exhausted mind screamed without mercy and it went straight to her heart: _"He knows Sara… He knows everything." _

But even with all the fatigue accumulated in the last couple of hours, and with the moist and hot air around them, Sara knew that it was impossible.

She knew that it was impossible for him to know, but at the same time, she felt an infinite sorrow and as she spoke her voice sounded fragile and emotional. Secretly Sara hated herself for it, but she needed to say it out loud.

She needed Michael to know:

-"Don't say that… Don't even think it."

Then Sara stepped closer to him, not stopping her movements until she felt his breath upon her hair. She kissed him, feverishly and demanding, letting her tongue enter his mouth, feeling the heat of his body pressed against hers.

Sara felt all the blood rising in her cheeks, burning as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as tight as she could.

Sara felt Michael responding to her desperate and rushed kiss. She felt his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

She whispered against his lips, her words sounding broken by his deep and hot kisses:

-"Don't say that again… Don't you dare say that again."

Her desperate words passed his lips and Sara realized then that she had missed his kisses as much as she had missed him.

Michael had just kissed her a few times, but every time he had, it had been desperate and heated; as if he thought every time was going to be the last.

The few kisses they had shared had always been rushed and passionate, and this was no exception… But Sara loves rushed and passionate.

She moved her hands down to the hem of his dirty t-shirt and pulled on it. Michael smiled against her lips, as he took it off in a one fast move and quickly kissed Sara again. She heard the distant noise the dirty fabric made as it made contact with the floor.

And surely that was her last coherent thought.

Sara slowly brushed her hands across his back, almost feeling the dark ink that had doomed them both.

She needed to show him how wrong he was, how she would never forget about him.

Because Sara would never forget the tattooed man with the shy gaze and warm voice that had changed her life forever.

Sara closed her eyes as she kissed him as if she would never have the chance to do it again. She felt her eyes well up with tears just imagining how he would feel if he ever found out what the real price of his freedom had been… But Sara fought the urge to shed the hot tears, as she slowly and deliberately led Michael to the king size bed.

Michael pulled back from her mouth a bit and kissed her cheek and her earlobe before whispering breathlessly against her ear in that warm and low tone that only Michael Scofield could manage:

-"…Sure that this is what you want Sara?"

She brushed her cheek against the four day stubble on his jaw and closed her eyes a bit before answering in an almost inaudible whisper:

-"… More than sure."

Michael smiled against her ear and made his way back to her mouth with small kisses covering her neck and her face.

Sara felt Michael's long and trembling fingers searching for the buttons on her dress and couldn't help but smile a bit. It had never crossed her mind that Michael Scofield, the man who had escaped from a high security prison, would get nervous undressing her.

Her dress fell down her body, pooling at her feet on the expensive beige marble floor, and almost at the same time, Sara felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees.

She smiled softly when she felt the satin sheets pressed against her naked back and Michael's hot breath upon her.

Michael kissed her deeply and listened intently as a small and hot moan emerged from her lips. That mixed with her warm tongue in his mouth made Michael's heart beat accelerate instantly. Just twelve hours ago, he never would have thought that he would be lying in a comfortable hotel bed, with Sara Tancredi naked underneath his body.

Michael never thought that something like that would be possible for them, but now he was feeling her soft skin against his lips and his tongue, and that just made everything else worth the while for him.

He felt his own sweat and hot saliva on Sara's pale skin. That mixed with that strawberry scent of hers could drive any man mad.

His worn-out trousers had been discarded somewhere between her dress and the bed, but now the only thing Michael could concentrate on were the two small and perfectly circular birthmarks that Sara had near her belly button.

Slowly Michael moved his tongue over them and the saliva trace shone for a few seconds upon her skin, like a permanent and invisible mark by him on Sara's body.

He heard Sara giggling softly in the half illuminated room and he loved every note of her suffocated laughter: "_You made a naked Sara Tancredi laugh breathlessly underneath you. Maybe you can make it after all…"_

Michael felt her fingertips caressing his skin and the dark ink underneath it, and crazy and fervently he thought: _"Now that she had touched them, those damn lines are going to be less dark and less permanent…"_

It was a stupid and crazy thought, but Michael wished with all his might that it was true. That maybe just for that night, it could be possible.

Michael brushed his hands and his mouth across every inch of her skin, thoroughly, trying to pay attention to every small detail of her body, and of her agitated breathing. Trying desperately to keep her scent and her curves in his memory and in his mouth as long as it was possible. As if they would never again have the chance to be together like this.

He felt her small and soft hands slowly pulling him toward her mouth, and Michael listened to her voice, broken and rasp as she whispered:

-"…Kiss me … Please."

Sara's "_Please_" sounded needy and desperate, as if she was suddenly afraid of losing him again.

Michael slowly made his way back to her lips, leaving small kisses on her skin. Then he looked at Sara in silence for a few seconds, wondering what was going on.

Michael was about to speak when he heard her desperate tone in his mind again, he combed his fingers gently through her hair, and then that voice in his mind, the voice he so feared, reared its ugly face. With no consideration to his heart the voice spoke coldly in his mind: "_There is something wrong, you know that there is something wrong with her… And this time, you know that you will not be able to save her."_

Michael kissed Sara, feverishly and with all the passion he had in him, trying to make that voice disappear from his mind. This turned out to be terribly easy when feeling her hot tongue in his mouth, or her breathing breaking against his skin or his hands among her hair, or the taste of her desperate kisses... Because when Michael heard Sara moan his name against his ear everything else seemed miniscule and insignificant to him.

Sara was still awake and Michael was lying next to her. She could feel his warm and heavy arm curled protectively around her body.

He was asleep, or at least Sara thought he was. His eyes were closed and his breathing was quiet and regular. She could feel it against her sweaty hair spread across the pillow.

It was great to have him lying next to her. To close her eyes knowing that Michael Scofield was naked and sleeping in her bed. To look at the dark ink lines on his arm around her body and to know that he would never have to run again in his life. That he was a free man…

"_Yes… But think of the price Sara… "_

She heard his father's voice in her mind, or at least, the blurred memory of his father's angry voice.

-"…I don't give a damn about the price."

Sara spoke these words softly, but they were filled with rage and anger in the dark room. She didn't even think that Michael could wake up.

"_I don't give a damn about the price…"_

She repeated those words again, this time in her mind.

It was great to feel Michael's love and desire in every word that he had whispered to her hours ago, and to feel the heat radiating off of his sleeping body against her back, the weight of his tattooed arm wrapped around her…

"_I really do__nt … At least, not tonight."_

Because he was there, Michael Scofield, the man that had saved her in more than one way, the man that had come back to her from the Mexican border just to ask of her; _one more day, _all this after only a paper flower, a riot and one kiss stolen in her infirmary.

Michael…

His name had never sounded more familiar yet distant to Sara than now.

The only noises in the room were their silent breathing and the big ventilators lazily getting rid of the hot and moist air in the room.

Carefully Sara untangled herself from Michael's arm and slipped out of the big bed. She put on the white, thin robe as she walked to the open terrace doors and went outside to the warm breeze in the darkness.

Michael opened his eyes slowly and looked at Sara's diffuse shape outside.

He had slept two hours and for those two hours he had been busy remembering Sara's body and trying to keep her taste in his mouth as long as possible.

He wasn't accustomed to sleep, not without nightmares and fear behind his closed eyelids, and especially, not knowing that Sara Tancredi was naked next to him. Her warm skin against the dark ink on his arm, and knowing that his breath was moving her auburn hair…

For Michael all of that was like being trapped in the infirmary again, yet this time without the world spinning around outside.

He had felt her moving tensely under his arm. So much in fact that Michael thought she was having a nightmare, but then he heard her speaking out loud in the dark room and Michael felt a chill, in spite of all the hot air in the room:

"-_I dont give a damn about the price"_

Michael didn't know how long she had been in the darkness, out on the terrace, but after a few moments she came back into the room.

Sara took off the robe and threw it on the chair, before slipping back into bed, covering her body with the thin satin sheet.

He felt the warmth of her skin next to him and her strawberry scent mixed with the hot and moist air.

Michael saw her hazelnut eyes shining in the darkness of the room, but he didn't realize that Sara had been crying, when she had been out on the terrace.

Michael looked at her in silence and took hold of her hand softly. He brought it close to his lips, so close that Sara felt his warm breath on her fingers and she could feel Michael lips moving slowly across her skin as he whispered against her fingers:

-"…Sara… "

No one in the whole world could say her name like he could.

She had discovered that a long time ago, and him lying next to her in that bed naked just made it sound even more passionate and warm. Yet Sara also heard a clear tone of fear and concern in his voice when he talked again:

-"…Are you okay?"

Sara smiled softly and caressed his face slowly with her hand; Michael closed his eyes a bit at her touch… He wasn't accustomed to that.

But Michael spoke again, because he needed to make her understand that no matter what was going on, he would do anything for her:

-"Sara… if there is something wrong or…"

-"… I'm fine. I'm fine."

Silently she looked at him for a few seconds before she closed her eyes to sleep.

And Michael knew then that she had lied to him.

He had seen her beautiful eyes trembling in the darkness of the room and her voice had sounded fragile.

"_She is not __all right, something has happened to her, she didn't tell you, but you know that there is something wrong… You love her more than anything and you're going to lose her._

_Maybe you have__ already lost her."_

Michael closed his eyes, trying to silence that voice in his head, fighting against the urge to wake Sara up in order to find out what was going on.

He wanted so badly to whisper to her that no matter what she had done or what was going on, because he would always do what needed to be done to keep her safe.

If he was given a second chance, he would do it all over again.

Michael would give himself up again, just to be able to lay next to her naked like this and to hear her giggling softly against his lips again.

Gently he sifted through her hair with his free hand. She was asleep now. He could see her body moving slowly with her peaceful breathing.

Michael squeezed her small hand and held it against his mouth as he kissed it one more time. Then he curled up against her, wrapping his heavy arm around her naked body and pulled Sara softly against him.

"_Maybe you have already lost her…"_

Michael closed his eyes to try and sleep a little, but his last thought of his first night as a free man, was of course of her.

He thought that something was truly wrong with Sara.

To be continued…

Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.


	4. The morning after

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.

Spoilers until "Sona", after that, just my sick imagination.

**Pairing:** Michael / Sara.

**Rating:** PG-17

**Summary:** And Sara thought then that it was her time to say _"Thank you_".

Dedicated to my lovely Maria, thank you for making it possible.

**Title:** Thank you

**Chapter title**: The morning after.

By Lylou

Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_-"...__Was it all an act?"_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sara opened her eyes slowly and felt the humid and hot air stick to her skin and to her hair immediately.

She was naked and face down, near the edge of the bed, Sara felt the warm and heavy air sneaking slowly into her lungs and announcing a new day of heat and sunlight.

Actually, the orangey sun of the midday was slipping past the rectangular gaps of the closed blinds, bathing the bed, her naked back and everything else in the room in small and rectangular golden sparkles.

It was beautiful, but Sara hadn't discovered that until now; since she had never woken up that late in all the lonely mornings she had been there; she usually woke up around 6 AM, her skin feeling clammy and covered with the cold sweat that only appears when you have just woken up from a horrible nightmare.

She heard the soft whisper of the fan in the ceiling above the big bed, turning the hot air slowly in the still half-dark and golden bedroom.

Sara moved lazily under the white silk sheet and felt all her muscles aching deliciously in places that she couldn't even recall hurting ever before; she could still feel Michael's hot and intoxicating taste in her mouth and on her tongue.

Sara closed her eyes slowly and smelled Michael's warm scent trapped on the expensive and tangled sheets and even with everything that was weighing heavily on her shoulders, Sara couldn't help but smile delightfully against the pillow.

She lazily stretched her arm to the other side of the bed.

Michael wasn't there.

Sara's heart accelerated instantly.

"_You can still __sense him and his scent is still lingering on the sheets… You didn't dream it."_

Distractedly she pushed a chunk of her uncombed hair from her face and then she heard the faint noise of water running in the shower; she smiled lightly and immediately felt relieved. A moment later the water stopped running.

Sara saw the bathroom door opening slowly and felt all the hot vapour and the scent of the shampoo flooding the room and her senses.

Michael walked into the bedroom, wearing only a white towel that hung loosely on his waist. Soaked from the shower he had just taken, he walked stealthily with his catlike steps until he saw that she was already awake.

And then Michael smiled like she never had seen him smile before, and suddenly, all the years that he had seemed to have aged in those two months he had been apart from her, had disappeared.

And Sara saw something that she wasn't used to seeing in his eyes: Happiness.

"_What have you done Sara? Did you even consider before sleeping with him, how all this was going to affect him when you…"_

Her thought was at once interrupted by Michael's voice, surprisingly shy; in spite of all the delicious things he had done to her last night:

-"…Sorry…

I didn't mean to wake you up."

"_So… Now you know that __Michael Scofield is even sweeter and more shy the morning after."_

Sara couldn't help but smile softly and spoke with a still sleepy voice:

-"… You didn't.

I was already awake."

Slowly Michael sat down on the edge of the bed, just a few centimetres from her, which gave Sara a clear view of the small beads of water trickling down his skin, running over the dark ink.

He looked at her in silence for a few seconds, as if he still wasn't sure if he was dreaming everything and when he seemed to be fully convinced of it all being real, he spoke in a warm and cheerful tone:

-"That has been my first shower in months - without a lot of guys around."

Michael chuckled softly and Sara could feel his hand gently pushing her uncombed hair from her face and in the process leaving small drops of water on her cheeks inadvertently.

The touch with the water woke her completely and she looked at him; Michael was looking at her again with that dangerous shine of hope in his warm eyes.

"_You should have known that having sex with him would only make him even more irresistible in your eyes."_

Michael was slowly running his familiar and still wets fingers over the curve of her spine, bathed in orangey and rectangular sparkles, as if he was trying to keep every small detail of her body in his beautiful mind.

Hell… Sara definitely wasn't ready for that; for that hopeful look in his eyes, for his shy tone spoken close to her on the bed, for his naked body - that is except for that towel around his waist, the sun peeping through the gaps creating a beautiful lighting, the scent of the shampoo floating in the room and upon his skin…

"_What __were you thinking Sara…? Did you ever stop to think of the possibility that the morning after the spell would just break?_

_God. He's __fucking Michael I-went-to-prison-for-you Scofield._

…_That kind of spell can't be broken."_

-"So… Now what?"

Michael spoke barely above a whisper and looked at her, knowing intuitively that he had caught her off-guard with his soft question, and then he couldn't help but feel the fear he was oh so familiar with rising again deep inside his body, gradually and painfully.

He observed how Sara sat on the bed, her bare back against the headrest, her knees bent and her long legs pressed against her chest. Sara slowly and unconsciously embraced her legs with her arms in a self-protective gesture.

All the alarms in Michael's head sounded off: "_There is something that scares her. You just made her jump with your question."_

"-Sara…"

He was now seated on the bed in front of her, but she was distractedly looking at the closed blinds, in the opposite direction. Michael gently touched her interlaced hands hoping to get her attention, and when she turned to him, she looked at him as if she didn't recognize him anymore, as if he hadn't whispered a needy "-_I love you._" against her mouth only a few hours ago.

-"Are you okay, Sara?"

He smiled a frail smile, but Michael perfectly felt the fear draining any small trace of hope left inside him.

-"Yes…

Sorry, I guess I'm still asleep."

"_You're a_ _liar Sara, you were thinking about very dangerous things… And he knows it; he intuitively knows something is wrong."_

Sara looked at him hoping that her dirty not-that-little secret was still safe.

-"Have you seen Lincoln today?"

-"No."

Michael smiled sadly and looked to the floor, painfully aware that Sara was desperately trying to get rid of him.

She spoke again and this time her voice sounded a bit nervous:

-"There are some clothes for you in the walk-in closet; Lincoln picked them out, so in case you don't like them…"

Sara chuckled softly yet seemed distant, but in that moment all Michael could think of was the fact that she was beautiful, naked and bathed by the midday sun, with her knees bent and her legs pressed against her chest, with her hair uncombed falling on her shoulders… But Michael also felt something dark silently waiting for them. As if they hadn't paid enough as it is.

As if he hadn't lost her enough times to fill up two lifetimes.

Michael looked at her again and smiled weakly, then he got up slowly from the bed; He walked over to the big walk-in closet in dusk and disappeared momentarily of Sara's distracted sight.

Sara got up from the bed slowly and put on the white satin robe covering her naked body; She took a few steps and then she saw Michael's bare back reflected in the big mirror. He was putting on a pair of beige trousers that he hadn't buttoned yet, but then Sara saw something that made her whisper scared and move quickly toward him:

-"Oh my…

What is that?"

Michael quickly turned around to look at her when he sensed Sara walking toward him worried, her eyes pinned to his back, and he could clearly hear the fear in her faltering voice.

Sara was only a few inches from his bare back, and Michael knew then what had scared her so much.

Slowly and indecisively she ran her fingers across the not yet closed and irregular long wound in the left side of his back, a wound that she didn't know Michael had acquired.

Michael closed his eyes slowly, half in pain and half in relieve, when he felt her soft touch and her breath against his skin, just before he turned around to look at her.

He saw her eyes turning, and he felt a million different feelings flood him when he saw her bottom lip quivering slowly: love, pain… sorrow.

Michael gently took her hand in his and pressed her open palm against his lips, kissing it with eyes closed; Sara sobbed softly and pressed herself so close to him that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body, slipping through the white silk she was wearing.

He made soft calming noises and kissed her palm again before releasing it only to embrace Sara as tight as he could.

-"I'm okay Sara.

It's nothing."

His words were laced with sadness and guilt. She pressed her forehead to his chest and Michael felt her warm tears slipping over his ink covered skin.

"_Now these dark lines are going to be even more permanent."_

Michael pushed that thought away and tightened his grip on Sara; he felt her sobbing beginning to subside slowly as he held her in his arms and he felt her lips moving slightly against his skin when she whispered:

-"It's all my fault…"

"_You were too __preoccupied with the feel of his mouth leaving trails of kisses on your skin and his warm promises whispered into your ear to notice that ugly wound on his back."_

Sara's voice sounded broken and guilt-ridden against his chest and Michael closed his eyes hurt, sad and a thousand things more; he slowly ran his fingers through her hair but she didn't look at him.

Michael whispered, worried and gently into her ear:

-"Look at me… look at me, Sara…"

Sara raised her head slowly but avoided looking at him and he spoke low and faltering, near her mouth:

-"…It's not your fault."

He leaned his forehead softly against hers and closed his eyes before he whispered, in a warm and sure tone:

-"There are many things I would do differently Sara… But not that.

Not that."

Michael felt the hot tears behind his closed eyelids and kissed her temple and her hair, trying desperately to make her believe in something again; just one more time.

Sara finally looked at him and she saw the fear and the concern in his wet eyes.

"_You have lost a part of him in that place, and now you are going to lose the rest, Sara."_

Michael carefully touched her face and he felt Sara's hot tears flowing down her cheeks; Michael closed his eyes and kissed her, feverish and needy, as if they were again in that dark cabin, surrounded by the Panamanian police and saying the most painful goodbye of his life.

As if he had understood suddenly that he was going to lose her.

And this time, maybe forever there wasn't going to be more fate related turns and tricks for them.

That scared him more than anything, even more than the first night he spent in Sona, eyes wide open in a dark corner and surrounded only by hot air and pain.

Michael had never surrendered in his whole life and he wasn't ready to start now, just when he could still feel her flavour in his mouth.

So Michael whispered against her lips between hot and rushed kisses, and even with her eyes closed, Sara heard the determination and the love in his voice, breaking both of them:

"-I would do it again Sara.

I would go there again, for you."

Sara looked at him, she wasn't sobbing any more but her voice still sounded fragile and guilty, as if she was about to break again:

-"I'm sorry Michael…

…I'm so sorry."

He tightened his grip on her body and kissed her repeatedly; Michael could smell her wonderful strawberry scent even through her tears and brushed his lips softly against hers, whispering warm and faltering words into her mouth:

"-Don't…

I would do anything for you Sara…

…Anything."

She kissed Michael, feverish and guilty, tasting the salt of her tears mixed with his hot saliva.

Her words sounded choked and broken by his intense kisses and by their breathing in that walk-in closet faintly lit by the midday sun:

-"I know.

I would do anything for you too, Michael…"

Then he broke away from the kiss and stepped back slowly, but he didn't release Sara; Michael looked at her, thinking about what she had just said.

He licked his lips in an automatic reaction and he felt Sara's flavor intoxicating him; But Michael had heard something in her faltering voice that had made him shiver, even with all the hot and wet air surrounding them.

It sounded a lot like a confession to him… Or like a goodbye.

"_No more goodbyes, Sara .Please._

_Not now that I can still taste you."_

Michael caressed her face lightly and closed his eyes a bit, as if he was gathering strength for what he was going to say:

-"…I know that there's something wrong here, Sara. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I…"

Michael closed his eyes and kissed her hair before continuing in a whisper, close to her:

-"… I want you to know; that there's no way I would ever leave you or blame you, Sara.

For anything…"

Michael tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked at her wet eyes before whispering into her ear with his eyes closed:

-"…I bled for my brother…

Did you think I wouldn't do the same for you?"

Sara crushed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging Michael as tight as she could, separating from his mouth only enough to whisper between desperate kisses:

-"I'm okay...

…I'm okay."

He saw her lips trembling, as if she wanted to say something else to him, but she didn't.

Michael drew up his hand and cupped her face softly:

-"If you're in some kind of trouble Sara, or if someone hurt you … I can fix it.

Let me help you, please."

She kissed him slowly and passionately and smiled:

-"Everything's okay, Michael.

I promise."

"_Liar. You are broken and you are going to break him too._

_And he has an open wound for you in his back._

_One more scar__ for both Sara, and you have already lost the count."_

She kissed him on the lips quickly and smiled again, leaving the walk-in closet slowly.

Michael heard the shower running in the bathroom and leant desolate against the wall, still feeling the moisture of her tears on his chest and her warm and sweet taste in his mouth.

A million of horrible ideas and possibilities crossed Michael's mind, fast and painfully.

He had lost her.

Michael had felt the desperation and the need in Sara since she had hugged him tightly yesterday on that dusty and hot path, but now, everything, every word she said seemed more and more like a goodbye to him.

And they knew a lot about goodbyes.

Michael distractedly caught a black shirt from the hanger and finished off dressing himself; then he walked slowly to the terrace door and opened the blinds.

The midday sun dazzled him for a second "_You are still not used to the light after all."_ Michael went out to the big and sunbathed terrace; he put his hands on the white banister, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin and looked around; he could see the Pacific Ocean and half of Panamá City from where he was.

In the last months Michael thought that he was never going to see the ocean again.

Or anything else apart from blood, dust and pain.

"_But it's worth the while… Because you saved her._

_You did, didn't you__?"_

Michael looked away from the ocean and lowered his gaze to the white tiles on the floor; he breathed deeply, worried and scared.

"_How __the hell did she get you out of there, Michael…? _

_Does it have something to do with what she'__s hiding?"_

Those two where the most painful and hard questions of all, but then Michael heard the terrace sliding door open behind him and Sara appeared, wearing a long, green dress, which made a nice contrast to her pale skin and her loose red hair.

"_She's beautiful; but not as beautiful as she was last night, when she was naked underneath you and moaning your name."_

Sara smiled weakly and spoke to him:

-"I didn't remember, but today I have a lunch meeting with my lawyers.

Sorry."

Michael looked at her disappointed and spoke worried:

-"Is there something wrong?"

-"No.

No it's just something concerning my dad's will…"

Sara looked to the floor a moment before continuing:

"… They have finally sold his estate in Chicago and … I only have to sign some papers and all of that will be over. Forever."

She looked at him again and added in a sad and distant tone:

-"And then I'll be the only remaining Tancredi."

Michael covered the distance to Sara in a few strides and embraced her; he kissed her forehead lightly and whispered:

-"I'll go with you."

Sara smiled weakly while shaking her head:

-"You don't have to; the last thing I want in this heat especially is to struggle to get a cab only to drag you to a boring meeting on your first day as a free man."

Sara separated from him and walked slowly to the terrace sliding door. She opened it and looked at Michael, disappointed and worried outside.

-"I'll pay you back, Michael.

I promise."

Sara's voice sounded suggestive and warm and she smiled to him from the door. Michael looked at her in silence, with the tone of her last words still floating in his mind.

Already in the room Sara caught her purse from the big sofa and both walked to the door.

Michael opened it slowly and held it for Sara, but when she was going to leave the room he caught her gently by the arm and kissed her thoroughly, running his free hand through her hair and whispering against her lips:

-"Are you trying to get away from me, Sara?"

She stepped back slowly and went out to the corridor followed by Michael who closed the room door behind him. Sara looked at him and smiled a bit confused, then she walked to the elevator doors and pressed the button before speaking:

-"No.

But Lincoln needs you too."

Michael looked at her in silence for a few moments, trying desperately to figure out what she was hiding.

The elevator made a sound and then the metallic doors opened slowly behind her.

He ran his fingers slowly through her hair and kissed her one more time, resisting to let her go, as if he was sure that she wasn't going to come back again.

-"I'll be here when you come back, Sara."

She walked into the empty elevator and smiled at him before she spoke:

-"I know…

…That's why I'm going to come back."

Michael smiled weakly at her and put his hands in his trouser pockets in a typical Michael Scofield gesture before he said in a warm tone:

-"Thank you, Sara.

For getting me out of there."

She looked at him, confused, scared and about to cry standing inside that elevator, and before the metallic doors closed between them, she whispered, broken and weak:

-"…You're welcome."

Sara disappeared behind the metallic doors and Michael took a deep breath in that empty and sunny corridor.

He didn't even knock at Lincoln's room door, just behind him; Michael ran to the stairs and walked down, quickly and determined, to the big and elegant vestibule.

He saw Sara was outside; she was already leaving having closed the big glass door behind her.

Michael crossed the reception area and walked to the door, but he stooped suddenly when he saw a middle aged man in the street, he was smiling at Sara and kissed her lovingly on the cheek, slipping his arm around her waist.

Through the big glass door, with all the coherent thoughts leaving his mind, Michael saw how Sara, beautiful with her intense green dress, climbed into the back seat of an official looking black car, which was parked in the hotel entrance, while the mysterious man was politely holding the car door open for her.

And then Michael felt jealousy, hatred and panic seizing him, at once and painfully.

To be continued…

Tomatoes, death threats, insults, comments… Everything is love.


End file.
